Under Dwellers
by Cobwebbs
Summary: After being abandoned Tim Drake is found by two street rats of Gotham city, they take him in and whisk him away into a completely different world. Gotham's streets are nothing to laugh at. It's dark, and dangerous and he learns things he never thought he'd need to know. The three boys bond and stumble on the city's newest secret. The Bat-man. And they aren't sure he's human.


**A/N) So - guess I started yet another story - jeez, I should really just stick to one-shots, easier and - ugh. But I was inspired and that doesn't happen a lot.**

 **Blame ScaryScarecrows. She's this awesome writer that I can't believe I never knew about until like last week when she reviewed on my story "Demons and Guns' and then I read some of her stuff and man!**

 **Blew me away! She's got this unique writing and you know _'meat'_ to her stories for lack of better words. She can make you cry and laugh and be stuck in a horrible uncertainty of in-between and she can also make you horrified at yourself _for_ laughing but - that's something else entirely.**

 **I read her story, "Gaslights" and it was epic! Incomplete, but epic! Deserves way more attention. It's based off of the comic book 'Gotham by Gaslight', which was also pretty awesome, batman in a different time line? It was very well done and you could feel the art come off the pages. I loved it. Also there's a movie and - yah that was pretty cool too, definitely creepy though.**

 **Anyway, I am ranting.**

 **Check her out - you won't be disappointed, of course after you read this ;)**

 **This was inspired by her and the comic, has literally nothing to do with either but - I thought, a bunch of people have done Batman in an past timeline, lemme give it a shot!**

 **Here goes.**

 **No cannon here. Except Bruce being Batman . . . and Alfred being Alfred. Otherwise, completely AU. Also, The boys, which is who this story focuses on, are all way younger. Ranging from ten to fourteen.**

 **Motivation is your Superpower!**

* * *

 **O** **utskirts of Gotham City, 1885**

A woman screams as horses neigh and a pistol goes off.

The night was dark, and gloom set in, sticking to clothing, clogging up lungs as a little boy falls out of the shaking carriage. He lands in wet black grass, very nearly getting his head stomped into pieces by panicking hooves as he tries to crawl out of harms way. Two men were struggling, one was the little boys father the other the highway robber that had stopped them.

The coach man had run, his mother became hysterical and was shrieking inside the carriage, yelling nothing that makes sense. The little boy shook, his dark hair helping him blend into the shadows as he makes it into a bush with only a bloody mouth where he fell in the gravel. His cornflower colored eyes wide and terrified as he took in the terrible fight. Somewhere a wolf howls, but no one else came.

 _Please help. Please Help. Please. Somebody - anybody._ The child begs, eyes squeezing shut as the pistol clicks, his ears strain for sounds on the gravel road, footsteps - another carriage even . . . anything to help -

Another gunshot shatters the night, horses squealing after it. The boy gasps and looks up despite all instincts _screaming_ to run. One body was down. His mother's screams where drowning as the victor stands, breathing so hard it sounds like gasps.

"Jack?" The mother whispers, voice quivering, choked by tears and horse from desperation. "I-is that you?"

"Yes. We have to go - " The man whirls around as the woman cries out in relief, he jumps on the chase and whips the jittery horses into motion. That's when the little boy realizes - _wait! Wait I'm not_ -

He chases the carriage desperatly, shoes kicking the gravel as he gasps out and tries to call them - he trips and falls, knees scrapping deep as he pounds the ground. They left him! He was - maybe they'd come back? They _had_ to - the child takes in a shaky breath trying to stop from crying - it's too late, tears track down his face - a low groan jolts him towards the body behind.

The groan gets louder - his skin crawls. _No, no, no, no, no!_ He shouldn't be alive - the child gasps, fear tearing at his insides as his legs move without his say so - he runs, and runs and runs -

Gotham city was no place for a little boy alone - no it wasn't.

He runs faster, tears blinding him. They left him! They left him and now the robber was going to kill him and - he can't see, he doesn't know where he's going, his hearts in his ears - he can hear it banging and thumping and breaking and suddenly - he trips, sails through the air, lands hard on his back and goes rolling down the choppy hillside with a bloody shriek.

He's unconscious by the time he lands in the murky river below. . .

And is floated down into the maw of Gotham City.

* * *

"Is he dead? He looks dead, dead as a mop."

Something pokes his face rather inquisitively. His brain is whirling back to life and every single injury and pain he's gotten while unconscious is slowly breaking into feeling.

"I don't think his dead Jay-Bird . . .just - he's breathing right?"

"Hell if I know - kid's real still and - " A hand that smells of coal and dust passes under his nose. "Heeeey, I think he's still alive here Dick!" The person sounds surprised.

He groans just to get them to stop touching him. Everything _hurt_ \- something had to be broken. Everything feels broken. He blinks, eyes seeing eight of everything and colors swimming around making it look like one of those Picasso painting he saw a few years ago - he'd hated those paintings . . .

"Hey there kid - you - you dying?"

"I am?"

He doesn't realize it was a question not a statement. He still can't see clearly, he can't even remember where he was - how'd he get here . . .who - then the memories come back and they hurt. _Badly_ \- he cries out and suddenly the pain and fear overwhelms and he burst into inconsolable tears. He still can't see the other people - he thinks there are only two of them though and he feels them looking at him in surprise.

"Great - we've got a nutter, le's just drop 'im off at Arkham and move on." One of them whispers. He doesn't know what 'Arkham' is but it doesn't sound good.

He cries harder's, begging for his mom and dad and - he just wants to go home. He feels like his hearts going to break and he's terrified. He doesn't want to go to this 'Arkham' he wants to leave, go home or- or die or something . . . _make it stop, please make this all stop!_ He doesn't know who he's begging but - _just make it stop!_

"Shhhh - hey, hey it's okay baby bird - you'll be ok." A gentle hand starts rubbing his hair and it takes a moment for the hysterical boy to calm into just on onslaught of dreadful hiccups and choked sobs. He now notices he's laying in a dirty muddy puddle and if he gets up he's going to freeze - he's probably already dying of pneumonia or something equally horrible and incurable.

Someone brushes the tears away from his face with a scratchy cloth. "There now, you'll be fine - we can just take him to Leslie - he'll be ok. She can fix him."

The other one scoffs. "Fine - you carry him." Next thing he knows he's being pulled out of the dreadful puddle and thrown over a warm bony back, dripping like a limp - mop - or something.

"No worries kid, Leslie'll take care of ya."

He blacks out with a shiver.

* * *

He'll live, according to the warm lady.

He will - and now that she had him cleaned up and warmed he thinks he might - although if he wants to that's a different story.

Turns out he only had a few nasty scrapes and a broken shin, but otherwise he was fine - which according to her was a surprise because he had to be in that puddle all night and should have gotten sick but - he was fine, terrified and traumatized but fine -

"Lemme see!" The voices outside his little room were growing louder, his head hurt, he doesn't want to see anyone or vise versa.

"Hang on there you little thug - just quietly. He's still recuperating." Her voice says softly as she carefully unlocks the door to let in two of the oddest people he has ever seen.

They were both short and looked like they're drowning in their clothes. One had a fierce sharp look about him complete with scrapes and cuts and a bandage on his nose, he looked scruffy and he had on a hat that covered almost his entire head of dark hair. His eyes looked like they'd seen a lot of the worlds darkness. The other one was - there really was no other way to put this - he was really pretty, pretty enough to be a lord son or something, even in his oversized sailor shirt and breeches and scarf, his eyes were the lightest color the child ever seen and he had a smile that seemed to say that everything was going to be fine - but he's seen enough darkness too.

"Hello there, feelin' any better?" Light eyes asks with a smile still in place.

He nods. "Yes - thank you." Polite and proper - like his mother - he won't think of his mother.

"I'm Dick, this is Jason . . . welcome to Gotham kid." Light eyes - Dick- says, smile getting impossibly bigger.

"Nice to meet you . " Firm eye contact - Dad always said - not thinking about father.

The other one, Jason - uncrosses his arms and lets his eyes graze over the kid like he's dead meat or something of the kind. "What'er you called?"

"Oh - Timothy, Timothy Drake."

The boy burst out laughing suddenly, surprising him. _What was so funny?_

"Oh - wooh, you sure ain't from around here _Mr. Timothy Drake!_ Haha!"

Dick rolls his light eyes. "Ignore him Timothy - Tim, I'll call you Tim, can I?"

 _Tim_? Tim - but that wasn't - his parents never - maybe that was for the best. "Yes."

"Anyway Tim - stop laughing at the poor kid Jason! - Ignore him, he's used to rougher things, it's either laugh at or be laughed at with him - he's not - ugh!" Dick flashes an irritated look at the doubled over boy next to him.

Tim just watches them with interest in his eyes as Dick shoves at the laugher and then Jason shoves back - then they lock each other in neck locks and - they end up both laughing.

It makes him smile a bit without realizing it. "Nice to meet you both." he says quietly.

"Yah, whatever." Jason yawns and suddenly flops on the bed next to him, shaking him and his broken leg which hurt. He doesn't say so though and watches in fascination as the strange boy stretches himself on the white linen and tucks his arms behind his head. "So - where do you come from anyway?"

Um - he doesn't want to - "I don't know." He says finally.

This gets him funny looks from the other two - "You don't _know_?" Jason looks at him skeptically.

Tim shrugs, that hurts a little. "I don't -me and my - my family traveled a lot, I never had a home - so - "

Dick sits down on the other side and shakes his head, his eye gentle. "Yah - Mine used to travel a lot too - but - that's ok, This can be your home now." He smiles, eyes reflecting only a little bit sorrow.

Tim can't help but think that maybe this boy had lost his family too. "Where are your families?"

Jason scoffs. "Dead and dead."

The unfeeling and empty way he said it without a second thought made Tim feel like an icy hand had just grabbed his heart and took a piece.

Dick sighs. "He doesn't like to talk about them."

"Screw you Dickie - I'm tellin' it the way it is. Dead. Both of 'em. And nobody gives a rats ass about it either so shut it." He closes his eyes, brows furrowing a crease of anger in his forehead, Tim decides not to ask anymore so he looks at Dick who seems to be smiling sadly at Jason.

"What about you?" Tim braves, feeling slightly guilty when the light eyes look away.

"Dead - killed actually, by - someone who my father refused to associate with."

Oh - _oh_ . . . Tim looks at his small hands and sighs. His parents had left him without even noticing - he wonders if they went back for him . . .it hurt knowing they forgot about him in the first place but - at least later he could find comfort in the fact that they still lived . . .these two were -

"You?"

Tim blinks and decides to not tell the truth - not entirely. "Um - a robber held up the carriage we were taking into town - I escaped but - last thing I heard was a gun and screams so - "

Dick nods - "That's ok, you can stay with us." He says brightly now.

"Huh?"

"Stay _where,_ ya idiot? We don't have a home - just a dumb box."

Tim looks confused. "Who takes care of you? I thought you live with Ms. Leslie?"

Jason snorts. "No - we're street rats, kid, we don't live with anybody, nobody wants us anyway. We fend for ourselves and don't take trash from anyone who tries to hurt us."

 _Oh_ \- they were orphans on the streets and - that explains the strange clothes.

"There are a lot like us Tim, kids with no homes or families or - circumstances that nobody can help them with. Jason's been on the road longer than I have but - it doesn't take very long to realize we don't get much mercy out there. Gotham is mean - it's streets? They're down right vicious."

He wants to go home . . . but he doesn't have one -

"I see." He doesn't. He might later though -

"We'll see." Jason mutters and closes his eyes.

Dick sighs and helps him lay back down. "Don't worry Tim. We'll take care of you - we will." He lays down also.

Tim just lays there, sandwiched between two strangers and thinks - what is going to happen to me now?

"Welcome to Gotham." Jason suddenly mumbles already half asleep.

Tim wants to cry.

* * *

 _Aw, poor lil' guy._

 _I wonder what's in store for the newly abandoned child._

 _And I also wonder how many of you thought it was Bruce in the beginning. ;)_

 _I thought it was Bruce - seriously I almost forgot it wasn't._

 _Anyway don't forget to check ScaryScarecrows stories and the comic ok! Oh and the movie's pretty good too - just entertainment!_

 _Have fun and come back soon!_


End file.
